


Hide and Seek

by beherenow (orphan_account)



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 23:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13914552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/beherenow
Summary: Franky Doyle, cleared of all crimes, moves and changes her identity to live a normal life outside of Wentworth. Will she be able to hide from her past? I'm bad at summaries!





	Hide and Seek

“Franky? Franky Doyle?” the bellike voice questioned towards the slender woman moving to exit the cafe. It wasn’t a name that the woman had heard in many years. Hearing it spoken out loud again caused her body to tense up, preparing for anything. She’d had it changed long ago, wanting to escape its tainted history. After her exoneration, the promise of anonymity in a new town was all she could imagine. Her once nearly her black hair had been replaced by a deep auburn that only served to bring out the green of her eyes even more. The dark locks were frequently tied back into a loose braid, something she hadn’t done since her youth. The look definitely softened her. She turned hesitantly, holding a cup in each of her hands. Instantly she felt her breath escape her lungs seeing the caller’s bright blue eyes. They had not changed in the slightest since the last time the had seen them. 

“It is you,” Bridget’s mouth remained open in surprise as she took in the appearance of the woman in front of her. She abandoned her place in line to take a step closer. 

“I’m sorry, I think you’re mistaken.” Somehow she was able to keep her voice from shaking as she delivered her response. There had been many years of practice from nosy individuals. She attempted to step to the side and passed the blonde in front of her. She was immediately stopped with a hand clutching her forearm.  
“I know it’s you,” she whispered with tears stinging the corners of her eyes. 

“You’re wrong. My name’s Nicole Da Silva, I go by Nic. I have no clue who you’re talking about, lady,” she lied in front of the watchful eyes around her. She was just starting to become a ‘regular’ at this cafe with a ‘usual’ order of two double espressos every Saturday morning. The guests in line were beginning to notice the exchange between the two women when a petite blonde appeared and slipped her hand around Nic’s arm before taking her cup. Bridget could feel the start of her chest tightening. The two women looked comfortable together, loving even. 

“Everything okay?” Sammy asked, her large brown eyes painted with concern for her girlfriend. 

“We’re all good, just a case of mistaken identity,” Nic smiled falsely, her heart beat pounding loudly. I’m not ready for you to know Franky Doyle yet… I may not ever be ready, love. 

The blue eyes blinked. She nodded, finally understanding. 

“I’m sorry, you just…You remind me of someone I once knew,” the psychologists voice wavered. “I must need that extra shot after all. Again...I’m terribly sorry.” Bridget retreated back towards the line like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs shamefully. 

“That was weird,” Sammy shook her head of its confusion as they proceeded out the door. 

“No weirder than the rest of our lives. Oh fuck, I left our scones!” She swore, stopping a a block or so down the sidewalk. “You go on or all the good mangoes will get picked over.” She kissed her girlfriends forehead before darting back into the cafe to snag the forgotten scones.  
Flying back into the cafe, she approached the counter to retrieve the forgotten breakfast, and search for the blonde psychologist. She spotted her at a small booth towards the back retrieving her laptop from her briefcase. The small chuckle escaped Nic’s mouth before she even realized what had happened. Of course, Bridget was working on paperwork on a Saturday. 

She took a deep breath in through her nose, willing her boots to move forward as she scribbled on the napkin and set it down on the woman’s table along with one of her pastries. The sapphire eyes darted upwards connecting with green. 

“Apricot. Your favorite,” she whispered before turning to leave again. 

Bridget hardly had time to process before she noticed the apricot flavored scone placed beside her green tea along with the familiar poorly scrawled handwriting with only two words. 

Hey Gidget


End file.
